


Until the Skies Turn Blue Again

by chicago_ruth



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Comfort, Grief, Guilt, Hugs, Kissing, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/pseuds/chicago_ruth
Summary: One year after Noctis gets taken by the crystal, Prompto still feels the loss. He's been avoiding everybody, the guilt eating at him. All it takes is a single touch to undo him.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50
Collections: Writing Rainbow Make Up Round





	Until the Skies Turn Blue Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatScottishShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatScottishShipper/gifts).



> There are a minor references to past Noctis/Ignis/Prompto/Gladio sex, but this fic only has Prompto/Ignis interactions.

The door is already open, ready for Prompto to leave, when Ignis says, “Prompto, wait.”

Prompto gives an unsteady sigh and closes the door. He has to steel his nerves a bit, and he pastes on a smile even though he knows that Ignis can’t see it. When he turns around, he says with false cheer, “You need anything else? I’m always happy to help!”

Ignis sits on the couch, his cane leaning against the side of it. He pats the spot next to him and says, “Sit with me for a moment. We haven’t truly talked in a while.”

Part of Prompto is really grateful, but the other part of him freezes up. He doesn’t now what to say to Ignis.

It’s been a year since they’ve lost Noctis, and the days are getting shorter and shorter. When they do meet up, them and Gladio, it’s often awkward. Prompto mostly drops by to give Ignis updates on what’s been going on and surreptitiously help out around the house. Ignis has adapted pretty well to being blind, but there’s stuff he can’t do on his own.

“Are you lonely, Ignis?” Prompto jokes, though he’s pretty sure Ignis can see right through him. Ignis pats the spot on the couch again, and Prompto decides to give in because he’s so, so damn tired of being on his own.

He tries to sit a respectable distance away, but Ignis grabs his arm and pulls him closer. Prompto can’t remember the last time somebody actually touched him other than to push him out of the way. Ignis’s hand is almost searing hot, making Prompto flush embarrassingly.

Prompto wouldn’t never say he’s glad that Ignis is blind, but it’s pretty convenient right now, hiding his reaction.

“I am… not used to having so much time alone,” Ignis admits. “I miss everybody. I miss our road trips. I miss… I miss Noctis.”

A year in, and the emptiness that Noctis left behind hasn’t lessened. Prompto misses him so damned much too, and he swallows hard at Ignis’s confession. Hearing the words out loud bring all those feelings to the forefront.

In his darkest hours, Prompto blames himself. If he hadn’t been so weak, if he had managed to avoid Ardyn, if he just weren’t a damned Nif—

But he can’t voice any of those thoughts. He knows exactly what Ignis would say. So instead, Prompto gives a half-hearted, “Yeah. Yeah, I do too.”

He’s surprised when Ignis puts an arm around his shoulder, and even more when Ignis pulls him in close into an awkward half-hug. Prompto doesn’t know what to do with his arms for a moment; it’s been so damn long since he got to enjoy being hugged.

They used to hug a lot, the four of them. Prompto remembers hugging Noctis after they got word of Regis’s death, even though Noctis had tried to pretend he was fine. He remembers Gladio helping Prompto out of a cave-in, and the bear hug he received after that. And he remembers Ignis hugging Prompto after he’d gone blind, whispering, “It’s fine, I’m all right,” to him, as if Prompto were the one hurting.

They didn’t hug each other after Noctis got locked up in the crystal.

Fuck, Prompto suddenly feels his eyes sting with tears. He can’t believe it. He should push away, but the hug is so warm and comforting that he can’t bring himself to break the contact. He brings his own arms up so he can return the embrace, and he feels Ignis sigh deeply and relax further.

“I’m sorry,” Ignis says after a moment. He starts to let go. “I should be stronger than this, but lately…”

“No!” Prompto exclaims, pulling Ignis back into an even stronger embrace. “Don’t apologize. I… I’ve been a shit friend. I keep running away because I feel so guilty about everything, but you’ve got it worse than me, and I…”

He trails off when Ignis brings a hand up to Prompto’s chin. His bare fingers trace over Prompto’s face lightly, shockingly intimate.

“You are not a bad friend, Prompto. And your feelings are no less important for not having suffered the same physical losses I have.” Ignis’s fingers land on Prompto’s mouth. “May I kiss you?”

The question seems to come out of nowhere. Prompto swallows hard and nods, though, all of his body heating up. He tries to remember the last time he kissed somebody, and that, too, was far too long ago.

It’s an awkward kiss, Ignis not having the visual clues he did in the past and Prompto still unsure of himself. The few times in the past that he and Ignis kissed, it was while they were all traveling together, when they were four young men who liked to have fun.

Well, maybe Prompto is still young, but he feels a lot older now, the weight of loss and darkness dragging him down. Prompto returns the kiss as best as he can, clinging tightly to Ignis and trying to convey how much he loves and appreciates him.

This could easily end in sex, and Prompto wouldn’t be opposed to it. He whines a bit when Ignis breaks the kiss, only to kiss Prompto’s forehead. Ignis then guides Prompto to lie on his lap.

“Ignis?” Prompto asks, a bit confused. “You want me to blow you?”

“No,” Ignis says quietly. “Not right now. Just… lie there, and let me touch you.”

Oh. Prompto doesn’t get it, except he kind of does. The sex is incidental. What Ignis wants—what Prompto wants—is the human connection they’ve been missing out on for the past year.

“Okay. But like, if you keep petting me like that I might fall asleep,” Prompto warns.

“That’s fine.” Ignis traces the shell of Prompto’s ear. “Just talk to me for a while. It doesn’t matter about what.” He smiles a bit sadly. “I used to love cooking while the three of your chattered on in the background.”

“We could invite Gladio too. Make a real party of it. The three of us—” But if it’s the three of them without Noctis, it’ll be easier to remember Noctis isn’t there. “I bet Gladio misses your cooking too. He’s living off cup noodles. He even told me he was starting to get sick of them.”

“Now that, I don’t believe.” Ignis’s fingers run over Prompto’s scalp in a way that makes him shiver. “What about you? Have you been eating well?”

There’s Ignis’s mother hen act, rearing it’s head. Prompto’s pretty glad that Ignis hasn’t changed too much, despite everything.

“Nope! It’s been fast food and takeout. I don’t know how to cook, man.” He rambles on about the bad food he’s been having, delighting in Ignis’s exaggerated expressions of disdain.

It ends up helping a lot, all the talking, especially with Ignis continuing to run his hands through Prompto’s hair. Eventually Prompto does drift off, trailing off mid-sentence.

When he wakes up, he’s got Ignis stretched out on the couch with him, sleeping on his chest. He feels surprisingly refreshed. He didn’t realize how tired he was until he got a chance to sleep for real, in a place that was safe and warm.

The window lets him know that he only slept for a short while, the blue sky still bright out there. It will darken quickly enough, dragging all the light and warmth and goodness out of the world.

Prompto tightens his arm around Ignis.

“Hey, Iggy?” Prompto whispers. Ignis only grumbles in response, but doesn’t stir beyond that. It’s hard to tell whether Ignis is asleep or not, but his glasses are on the coffee table and his eyes are closed.

After another few minutes, Prompto kisses Ignis’s cheek and says, “Thanks, man.”

There are still things worth fighting for. He has Ignis. He has Gladio—he’s going to call him as soon as Ignis is awake—and Iris and Cindy and everybody, really. It’s amazing how everybody has come together to fight for survival. He can’t let the darkness depress him, can’t let it sap the fight out of him.

The three of them will be ready when Noctis returns, and they’re going to make sure the sun brings back their blue skies.


End file.
